Rosa Temple - Playing Her Cards Right

‘Magenta Bright, you say? From London?’ he said.

‘That’s right. You can confirm this. Just call anyone –’

He put up a hand to shush me. I shushed.

Looking at me but not saying a word he began to lay photographs out in front of me on the desk. ‘I am Inspecteur Martin.’ He tapped loudly with his forefinger at a photograph. ‘You know this man?’

I looked from his kind eyes to the photo. He pushed it closer. I shook my head.

‘Never seen him before,’ I said. ‘But he wasn’t the one who gave me the bag. That guy was a lot younger.’

‘His name?’

‘I never knew his name. He just passed me the bag.’

‘And you just took it?’

‘Well, yes, I had lots of bags, you see. I was confused. I thought it was one of mine but then I realized that –’

‘Look at the photos. Tell me the names of all the people you recognize.’ His voice wasn’t unpleasant. If anything he sounded tired and uninterested.

I looked at each photograph, shaking my head with as much confidence as I could muster.

‘I don’t know a single one,’ I declared.

The inspector and the policewoman looked at each other and the atmosphere in the room changed. It got decidedly heavier and I knew that my arrest had nothing to do with anything as simple as a case of a stolen bag. He gathered the photos and put them back into the file. He then whipped out a sheet of paper. On it was a list of names.

‘All I want you to do is look at the list and tell me which one of them is your contact.’

I mouthed the words ‘my contact’, because I was too nervous to use actual words. I blinked vigorously so I could read the list through the tears welling up in my eyes.

I shook my head after carefully going down the list. I cleared my throat and pointed at a name.

‘Yes?’ Inspector Martin said. He and the police officer leaned forward on their elbows.

‘W-well,’ I stuttered. ‘I think this one won an Emmy at the awards recently . ’

‘Very funny.’ He snatched the list away and got up, scraping the chair on the floor. ‘This interview is terminated.’

I stood and the policewoman got up, too. Inspector Martin was at the door.

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘This interview is not terminated.’

‘You have something to confess?’ he said.

‘No, I don’t. I want to go home. I know my rights. You should at least let me make a telephone call. At least one. I know the law.’

Inspector Martin looked at the policewoman with the gun. She shot a look at the chair I’d got out of so abruptly, implying I should sit. I did so, my eyes on her weapon, and gulped. Inspector Martin left and the policewoman plugged in a phone, which appeared from a shelf I hadn’t noticed before.

‘I’m calling London,’ I said, haughtily.

Anthony would be at the art gallery or on his way home if I was right about the time. His phone started ringing. Please pick up, please pick up, I kept saying under my breath. The second I heard Anthony’s voice I inhaled deeply and burst into tears.

‘Magenta, slow down. I don’t understand a single word. Did you say arrested ?’ Anthony sounded as desperate as I was.

‘Well, I think so. No one said that thing, you know: “You have the right to remain silent” or whatever it is. Or if they did, they said it in French and I missed it. If I’m not arrested can’t I just walk out? Only they’ve got my shoes.’

‘Magenta, I’m coming out there straight away. Ask for a translator. In fact, don’t say anything until I get you a lawyer.’

‘Call Indigo,’ I said. ‘She’ll know what to do.’ My sister specialized in business and corporate law. In truth, I probably needed a criminal lawyer but I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. Besides which, Indigo’s French was fairly fluent. ‘I’m scared, Anthony. I can’t make them see that there’s been a mistake. I have no idea what I’m supposed to have done.’

‘It’s okay. Sit tight. I’ll get the first flight. Don’t worry about anything, I’ll take care of it all.’ Anthony sounded confident, probably only for my benefit. I had to put my faith in him but I wouldn’t be reassured until he was there in front of me with my sister, Indigo, and a French phrase book.

I was reluctant to get off the phone but the sooner I could, the sooner Anthony would arrive. I was escorted back to the cell. It was colder than I’d remembered and before I knew it my teeth had begun to chatter and I couldn’t control them. I placed the dusty-looking throw over my shoulders and curled up in a ball on the bench and closed my eyes.

I couldn’t sleep, of course. I was just trying to block out my surroundings. I felt sure that once Anthony arrived he’d get me out of that hellhole. That was what I kept telling myself. All I had to do was think positive thoughts and the nightmare would eventually end.

With my eyes closed I retraced my day, from my successful meeting with Clara to the visit to the pharmacist. I hadn’t forgotten about my pregnancy scare. If it turned out to be positive I hoped I wouldn’t have to give birth in prison. I shook the image from my head. Of course I wouldn’t. Anyway, I wasn’t pregnant … was I?

Chapter 8

The Dealer

The rattling of keys in the door scared me awake. I sat upright, wide-eyed, looking hopefully at the man at the door.

‘ Allez !’ he said. Immediately my hopes plummeted. I’d heard that word before and it hadn’t got me anywhere. I got up and tried to straighten my hair and clothes. Stepping out into the corridor I saw that the armed policewoman wasn’t there this time. The guard nodded me in the opposite direction to the one we’d taken earlier. We passed a window as we mounted a flight of stairs. It was dark outside and I wondered how long I’d been in that cell.

At the top of the stairs I saw the desk I’d stood at while the arresting officers took all my property away. The guard pointed at the exit and I noticed Anthony for the first time. I rushed to him with my arms outstretched and fell against his chest. He hugged me tightly.

‘Ssh, it’s okay,’ he told me as I cried like a helpless maiden into his jacket.

‘When did you get here?’ I asked.

‘About an hour ago. Indigo is in with the inspector giving him a proper talking-to. I don’t think anyone charged you with anything. There wasn’t a formal arrest and you weren’t given any opportunity to ask for a translator or a lawyer were you?’

I shook my head.

‘I have no idea why they think I stole a bag,’ I said. ‘If that’s what this is all about. I mean I must have looked suspicious carrying all the bag samples the designer gave me but they didn’t even give me a chance to explain. I might be many things but I’m no thief.’

‘Magenta.’ Anthony held my face in his hands. ‘This isn’t about a stolen bag. The bag you were given contained a truck load of drugs in the lining. Cocaine. They suspected you of drug trafficking.’

My mouth dropped open. I looked over my shoulder at the officers at the desk.

‘You bloody bastards.’ I slammed my hands on the desk. ‘A bloody drug dealer! Really ?’

Anthony pulled me away. ‘Indigo did all that. She said you’d press charges against them. Do you want to?’

I blew out a long breath, shook my head. ‘I just want to get out of here. Get a bath and go home.’

‘Let’s get your stuff … and Indigo if we can pull her off the inspector.’

It was then I heard my sister’s voice, bellowing from an office somewhere in half English and half French. She would probably have the whole constabulary on charges before the night was through but all I wanted to do was get as far away from that place as possible.